#lettuce edge

[monicasfashioncrush]

[hidinginthemoss]

I made a moss inspired top ☺️

[onlinesweetheart]

<3

[slugmorelz]

roadside weeds

[anielskaaniela]

4 Ways How to Sew Lettuce Hem:Beginners Tutorial

In this post, you’ll learn 4 ways on how to sew lettuce hem for beginners. Love what you see ? Support me by snagging some cool items from my shop! Every purchase helps me bring you more awesome content. Thank you! Shop Now A lettuce hem is a stylish and playful way to finish the edges of your garments. This technique creates a ruffled, wavy edge that adds a fun and feminine touch to skirts,…

[lettuce-tv]

more teeth in my mouth than there were beifre btw.

[sumi-sprite]

The greatest BLT I ever had.

The sad part though? I can't remember where I had it. It was YEARS ago in another state I no longer live in but holy fucking shit balls bacon...

My beloved.

this is so real and never leaves me

[bunnys-kisses]

vegetable patch

hybrid!simon 'ghost' riley

cw: hybrid!au, pwp/smut, breeding, guard dog!simon, bunny!reader, dub-con, outdoor sex

a word from bunny: happy easter! if you like the fic, suggest your own! if you really like the fic, leave a comment! reblogs are always appreciated!

part. 2

what you knew about price's farm was that it had the most lovely heads of lettuce you've ever seen. you also knew that he had two guard dogs who made sure bunnies like you didn't get into the vegetable patch.

but what the farmer grew was much nicer than whatever you could find in the forest. so it was worth it to slip through the fence to get to the bounty of vegetables.

farmer price had two guard dog hybrids. john, also known as soap. and simon, also known as ghost. while john had a louder bark, simon was the one to watch out for.

you had slipped through the fence and kept an eye out for the dogs. with careful steps you did you best to not make footprints in the dirt. you kept your ears low to your head to keep you from being spotted.

"bunny." you heard, a low rumbled of a voice. you looked over and saw the blond. his arms across his chest and his dark eyes gazing down at you.

you swallowed, "hello." you tried to take a step away from him. but ended up face first in the dirt as you tripped over a head of lettuce. you whimpered.

he chuckled, "i can't have you be eatin' that. it's not yours."

you looked up at him, your ears low as you frowned, "you can at least share." but made a sharp noise when simon invaded your space.

he grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head, "it'll cost ya." he said in a low voice.

the guard dog had the luxury of clothes, while you were naked. you tried to squirm out of his grasp but you felt his erection up against your ass. he grunted when you accidentally rubbed yourself up against him.

"stay still, bunny." he said as he pushed your further into the dirt, "be good, or i'll have your throat between my teeth."

you whimpered as he got himself undressed. your ears laid flat against your hear out of fear as you felt him push his cock into you. he had you pinned to the dirt as he started to rut against you.

his cock felt huge and like it took up the entirety of your pussy. you moaned and whimpered, your tail twitched as you felt him move his heavy cock in and out of you.

"good little bunny." he growled as he continued to thrust.

you had no defense mechanism, you were a bunny! you felt his heavy balls slap against your ass as he moved. you tried to grip onto him but he kept you under his larger body.

"sweet little bunny." he purred, "perfect for me." his cock throbbed inside of you as you pushed back against him to meet his thrusts.

your head felt like a blur as he fucked you. your back arched as you felt the pleasure in your body from his heavy thrusts. your face was pressed into the soil as he feverishly moved against you.

his cock felt like it was up in your womb, hitting the edge of it. you panted and whimpered like a good bunny and let the dog hybrid pump you full of hot seed.

your pussy clenched around his length and you squirmed a little underneath him. he grumbled something that you didn't pick up but knew it didn't sound good. so you laid there limp to let him do what he wanted.

he gave you a little bit of praise for being such a good girl for him, such a sweet wholesome bunny to let him use your pussy like that. maybe that would teach you not to be sniffing around vegetable patches again.

"ah, please!" you whimpered

"i love the sound of your struggle, bunny." he let go of one of your wrists and tugged on your ears for a moment.

he pulled them back like reigns on a sled and used it as leverage to thrust deeper into of you. you whined and moaned from the feeling as he pushed as deep as he could get inside of you.

it felt like his cock was in your stomach.

it wasn't long before simon's pace started to stutter, you whined into the dirt and arched your back further. you felt sore but yearned for his cock. with another hard thrust, he shoved his cock as far as it would go and finished inside of you.

your mind went blank afterwards.

but soon your heard, "simon what in the hell" farmer price sighed as he saw you in a heap in the soil with your ass up and your little cottontail in the air.

simon looked almost proud of himself as he licked your cum-filled pussy. his hands on the back of your thighs. he then looked to his owner as his tail wagged.

the farmer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, "i guess we're keepin' a bunny then." then got off the porch to see the damage the hybrid had done.

you moaned a little when simon got ready to fuck you once more. your little tail wiggled at the anticipation. you moaned when he slid his cock in once more.

price grumbled to himself, "jesus christ, simon. at least get the girl inside the house!"

-

months later you'd find yourself curled up with the guard dog in front of the television on the floor. your belly had filled out with pups, something that left simon quite protective of you. you lived a lavish life for a bunny who was out in the woods.

But now you were inside the house, and you got all the lettuce you wanted. <3

part. 2

[dewwinchester]

stitches | d.w.

synopsis: dean texts you for help, and you drop everything for him.

requested by: @dingo-ate-my-hot-lettuce-crazy

pairing: pre-series!dean winchester x reader

word count: 1.6k+

warnings: fluff, some angst, john winchester, blood, wounds/injury, stitching up wounds, typical spn series warnings. no use of y/n, no pronouns used!

a/n: if john winchester has no haters, i'm dead <33 also, it's currently 12am, so if the editing is a little wonky, pls forgive me

You gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white as you navigated through the torrential downpour hammering down around you and your car. The rain was relentless, blinding you as it pounded against the windshield. The smell of wet asphalt filled your car as the tires slipped on the rain-soaked road. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears – a mixture of adrenaline from trying to avoid a horrific car wreck and anxiety from the message still illuminating your car in a dim light.

I need your help.

It wasn’t a message you were expecting. Normally, in your line of work, pleas for help came in the form of a frantic phone call or a scream in the dark. They never came in the form of a random text message.

And they never came from Dean Winchester.

You were having a relatively normal night, working a case and staking out a couple of vamps, when your phone buzzed with several messages from Dean. First, he asked if you were busy. Then, he asked if you were nearby. Moments later, he sent you an address to a motel. Then, came the message that caused you to leave the stakeout completely and go frantically speeding down the road.

Your tires screeched as you rounded a corner. The neon light of the motel soon appeared ahead, its reflection dancing across the many puddles on the asphalt. You pulled into the first parking spot you saw and stepped out of your car. The rain immediately soaked you to the bone, wetting your hair and your clothes, sending a chill through you, but you couldn't find yourself caring as your eyes scanned for Dean's room number.

The motel was rather seedy-looking – more so than normal. The wooden palings were splitting, and the paint was chipping off the trimmings and walls. There wasn't any other car in sight. You wondered just how bad things were if Dean had found himself in a place like this.

Once you found his room, you practically ran over to the door and threw it open, not bothering to knock. Your eyes immediately landed on Dean, who sat on the edge of one of the beds, his back to you. A wave of relief washed over you – he was alive – but the sight of his tense shoulders and the untouched beer bottle in his hand kept your anxiety simmering.

You closed the door behind you and took off your saturated jacket, leaving it next to Dean's leather one.

"Hey," you said with a sigh, "You okay?"

Dean responded with a curt nod but said nothing more. You stepped closer to him and placed your hand gently on his shoulder. He flinched at the touch, and you felt a pang in your chest. When you finally got close enough, you quickly scanned his face. The bags under his eyes were darker than usual, and his normally sharp gaze was clouded with exhaustion. HIs hair was wet and spiky, and his lip trembled from the cold.

Your eyes continued to trail down to his side, where his shirt clung to his skin, dark and wet with blood. Three jagged and deep gashes spread across Dean's side. His shirt was torn.

Your eyes widened as panic once again surged through you. You frantically looked around for anything you could use to stop the bleeding. You grabbed the first towel you could get your hands on and pressed it to his side, grimacing when Dean winced in pain.

"Jesus, Dean. What the hell happened?"

"Werewolf," he gritted out.

"I think you're gonna need stitches."

There was no first aid kit in sight, so your mind began running through alternatives. You could go to the front desk and ask if there were any supplies, but asking for anything more than a simple band-aid would cause suspicion, and the last thing you needed was someone knocking on the door asking too many questions.

You could use dental floss. You had known plenty of hunters that used it in the past and not had a problem, but you weren't sure there were any needles…

"There's a sewing kit in the bathroom."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "You read my mind."

“One of my many talents.” 

----

Needle, thread, dental floss, tissues, water. You looked over the supplies in front of you, mind racing at a million miles an hour. Despite being a hunter yourself, you weren’t exactly a natural when it came to stitching wounds and performing first aid. In fact, the sight of too much blood caused your head to throb and your legs to go numb.

Dean had already taken off his shirt, leaving you to see the full extent of his injuries. The gashes started at the top of his ribs and curled around to his left shoulder blade. Blood continued to trail down his back, causing your mouth to go dry. Pins and needles tingled your toes, and the room began to spin…

You shook off your thoughts and shifted your weight between your two feet, hoping to get some blood flow back there. You put your thoughts and discomfort behind you and prepared to begin. 

“This isn’t gonna feel great,” you said, trying to control the shake in your voice. 

“Not my first time,” he replied. 

You grabbed the needle and thread, and – with shaky hands – tried your best to thread the cotton through the eye. You sat behind him, deciding to start around his shoulder. With a damp cloth, you tried your best to clean around the area, whispering apologies whenever Dean flinched. 

“What happened?” you asked quietly, using your gentlest touch to guide the needle through. 

“I told you,” he said through gritted teeth, “werewolf.”

“Yeah, I know, but…” you trailed off. “Where’s your dad?” 

Dean clenched his jaw, and you immediately knew you had touched on a rough subject. Throughout the time that you had known Dean, you had learnt his relationship with his father was far from healthy. John Winchester was not your favourite person in the world. In fact, you and Dean had gotten into plenty of arguments about him in the past. 

“He’s not here.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you said, continuing your stitching. “Why isn’t he here?”

“Do we have to do this–?”

“--Yes.”

Dean sighed, scrubbing his hand down his face. The anger and tension radiating off him was palpable, his shoulders were tense and his breathing was heavy. You finished stitching the first gash, and tied the thread off with a neat little knot. Instead of immediately moving on to the next one, you moved around and knelt in front of Dean so you were eye level. You placed a hand on his right knee and traced gentle circles into his skin with your thumb. You raised your eyebrows, sending him a look that was simultaneously stern and empathetic.

You just wanted to know he was okay.

“We’d been stakin’ out the thing for weeks,” Dean began. “We finally pinpointed it to this boathouse. Dad was sure that it was in there, so he sent me in first to sweep the area.”

“And…?”

“Turns out it was a lot smarter than we thought,” Dean said, a dejected smile on his lips. “It was waitin’ there for us. Dad knew, but I didn’t.” 

“Then why did he send you in there?”

Dean shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you. But the thing had me on the ground before I even realized what was goin’ on. Put it’s claws in me and ran.”

You shuddered. 

“Dad didn’t stay,” Dean continued. “The second he realised it jumped ship, he went too. Left me with my phone and wallet… I walked here.” 

“What?” 

If Dean’s anger was palpable, you were damn-near irate. You pressed your lips together, trying to control yourself from spewing all sorts of profanities. If you had it your way, you would have marched your way up to John Winchester and given him what for. You would have knocked his lights out if Dean had let you. 

You stood and pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes.

"He – you? God!"

"Alright hot-head, calm down."

"No, I will not calm down!" You spun on your heel, turning to face him again. "Your own father left you for dead!"

"He's done worse."

You laughed bitterly. "That doesn't surprise me."

"Alright," Dean sighed, raising a hand to stop your tirade. "I'm okay! I'm still here, aren't I?"

"Oh yeah, you're the pinnacle of okay."

"Your sarcasm isn't helping."

You shook your head. Angry tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you were too stubborn to let them fall.

"I just wish you would understand that you deserve better," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "You could leave his ass behind any time you like -"

"Oh yeah? And then what?"

You paused, and looked down to your feet. 

"You could come with me?" 

For half a second, Dean smiled. “You and I would kill each other in half an hour.” 

He was right – but you’d never let him admit it. 

“Why’d you text me then?” You asked. “If we’re just gonna kill one another–”

Dean shot you a pointed look. 

“– I’m serious.” You said. 

Dean stood up with a groan and walked over to you. You stood with your arms crossed, a slight frown creasing your brow. Nothing could be heard but the rain that battered against the windows and the thundering of your own heartbeat in your ears. 

Dean tucked a strand of your wet hair behind your ear, “You’re the first one I thought of… The only one I wanted here.” 

A blush crept onto your cheeks and you shook your head fondly. “You’re fantastic at changing the subject.” 

Dean winked, but his smooth-talking was soon replaced by a painful scowl. 

“Let’s finish this up later, shall we? I’d rather not bleed to death.” 

You helped Dean back to the bed and prepared to finish stitching him up. You knew this was far from over – with Dean, it never was – but for now, you would focus on the rain that pattered against the roof and the relief that Dean was with you, safe. 

[ocinstar]

Like a cake

Spencer x afab!reader

Summary: Spencer accidentally eats a special brownie and gets baked for the first time, making him reveal some things.

Cw: drug use (devils lettuce), fluff, use of y/n

A/n: cooked this up at 3 am while watching that scene in the perks of being a wallflower where charlie gets high and thought high spencer would be hilarious 😭

Also this is not proof read, so if u see any spelling mistakes, no you didn't 😇

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───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"Do I really have to go to this thing?" Spencer asked Derek from his seat beside me.

Derek had gotten an invite to a house party by some of his friends and had insisted on us coming along with him. Emily and I were pretty quick to accept the invitation, but it took a lot of convincing to get boy wonder to agree to join us. He only agreed after I promised to lend him my copy The Undertaker in the original Russian print.

"Yes, you do." Morgan answered with a breathy chuckle. Spencer sighed and sunk lower in his seat. I sort of felt bad now for pushing him to come, especially since I know he's uncomfortable with things like this. But that's also exactly why I pushed him, to get him out of his comfort zone a bit and have the chance to talk with people in a low stress environment. Derek had said the party wasn't supposed to be to big, just a few friends. Which of whom were all going to be intoxicated, therefore easier to talk to since drunk people tend to be less judgmental than sober people.

"Don't worry, spence. It'll be fun." I gave him a reassuring smile. He let out another sigh that let me know he didn't really believe me.

"Yeah, Reid. It'll be fun." Emily reiterated from the front seat. I didn't plan on leaving Spencer to fend for himself at this party of course. I planned on staying by his side until I was sure he was going to be fine, but I realized that might be a bit harder than I thought as we pulled up to the house. It was crowded with cars and some people hanging out on the front lawn. As we stepped out, we could hear the music coming from inside.

"This is definitely more than 'a few friends', Morgan." Spencer fidgeted with his hands nervous. Derek patted his back before clapping his shoulder and shaking him slightly.

"You'll be just fine, pretty boy." He said before him and Emily walked off and into the house. Spencer's anxiety was very apparent as he cracked and played with his fingers.

"We can leave if you really want to." I offered once I realized something like this might be way to out of his comfort zone. He took a deep breath and shook his head.

"No, no, it's fine."

"Are you sure?" I asked again just to make sure he was ok with this. He nodded his head yes so I linked my arm with his as I lead him into the party.

From the amount of cars parked outside of course I expected there to be way more people than previously anticipated, but I definitely didn't expect this many people. I held onto spencer's arm a bit tighter as we walk through the sea of people. I saw some people head down to where I assumed the basement was and lead spencer down the stairs. It was calmer down there, less people and softer music. So I thought this would be a better environment for spencer, who was currently as stiff as a board. I unlinked my arm from his to give him some space. I spotted the vacant couch and gestured for him to follow me as he went on about how Morgan was a liar.

"'Just a few people' he said. He promised just a few people! This is what I get for trusting him. He's always trying to get me to go to parties with him, of course it wasn't gonna be 'just a few people.'" His rant continued as we walked.

"Yes, yes, Derek is a liar and I'll put salt in his coffee tomorrow. But for now, just try to have a bit of fun tonight, ok?" I sat down on the couch, making myself comfortable. He sighed heavily and nodded.

"Ok, I'll try." He sat down, awkwardly positioned on the edge with his hands on his knees. It was obvious he felt uncomfortable sitting on a strange couch with God knows what on it. There was an ottoman beside the coffee table that looked like it opened up, so I opened it in hope to find something for spencer to sit on. Sure enough there was a thin blanket that looked clean.

"Here, up." I ordered him to stand and he did without a word. Cute.

I draped the blanket over the couch and gestured for spencer to sit back down. He smiled me gratefully as he sat back down, now looking much more comfortable.

"Thank you." I waved my hand dismissively, I mean it's the least I could do for making him come here. Some people filed back upstairs, so I saw an opportunity a drink from upstairs while it was basically empty down here.

"Will you be ok if I go get a drink?" He looked up at me with his gorgeous brown eyes, which made me want to just sit back down and forget about the drink.

"Yes, I'll be fine." He gave me a tight liped smile. I was reluctant to leave him, but I walked off regardless.

~~~

I felt awkward sitting all alone. After y/n left, I just started fiddling with my hands and looking around. I wish I had told y/n to stay. She was the only reason I had came and now without her here, i felt out of place.

I hear a group of people come down the stairs, their loud laughing filling the room. I get insanely anxious when I realize their voices getting closer to me.

"Hey man, mind if we sit here with you?" One of the guys ask. Of course I couldn't say no. Well technically I could, but I don't know how without coming across rude.

"Uh, yeah, sure." I slide over to the very end of the couch as 2 of them sat down and the others sat on the floor or stood. They continued their loud conversation and I wondered if I should just leave.

"Whatever, star wars and star trek are basically the same thing." One girl said from the floor. I suddenly thought back to earlier and the promise i made to y/n to try and have fun. So I interjected before I could over think it.

"Actually, Star Trek is more based on probable science as basis for it's plot while star wars is more sci-fantasy more focused on how people react to their surroundings, instead of how the surroundings are possible." I regretted opening my mouth immediately. They stared at me, surprised I had spoken to them.

"Thank you!" The guy sitting beside me shouted. "See! I told you!" He pointed at the girl who was speaking earlier. She simply rolled her eyes at him and he turned his head to me.

"Continue telling her how wrong she is." They all looked at me, waiting for me to continue my informational rant. Which I happily did. As I talked more about the differences and similarities between the 2 worlds, one of the guys, who I hadn't noticed had left, approached us with a plate of brownies. He held them out to the group and they all excitedly reached for them.

"You want one to?" He offered and held the plate out further so I could reach it. Of course I wasn't going to pass up a free treat, so I took one without giving it much thought.

"Thank you." I chewed on the browine as I carried on with what I was saying before being interrupted. This night is turning out to be fun after all. I do wish y/n was her though.

"Can I have another one please?"

~~~

Upstairs felt like a nostalgia trip back to high school. A room flooded with drunk people and people groping each other. It took some time to navigate my way through everyone and it took even longer finding the kitchen. But I eventually found my way. I was delighted seeing the familiar face of Derek Morgan as I entered.

"Well if it isn't the liar." He looked up from pouring his drink. He smiled at me and laughed.

"How's boy genius doing?" He asked as he took a sip of whatever drink he mixed together.

"I think he might climb out a window and run home any second now." I grabbed 2 empty solo cups, filling one up with water and the other with vodka and cranberry juice. Derek laughed.

"Ah I think he has a compelling reason to stay." He winked at me and I felt a blush creep onto my cheeks. I regret telling him about my crush on spencer. I told him to shut up, which just make him chuckle.

We talked for a few minutes about how Emily had almost immediately found a girl to flirt with and has been with her all night. And almost as if on cue, she walked in. We all teased her about her party crush for a few minutes, until the teasing turn onto me. I also regretted telling Emily about my crush.

I hadn't realized how much time had passed till Emily mentioned something about spencer being left alone for so long. A whole 30 minutes had passed since I had come upstairs and I immediately felt bad for ditching spencer for so long without a word. I quickly grabbed the 2 cups and bid them goodbye before hurrying off.

Getting through all the people took longer than before since I had to be extra careful as to not spill anything. I felt relieved when I finally reached the stairs to the basement. I was worried that spencer had been just sitting there for the past half an hour in silence. But my worries were quickly squandered as I saw him talking with a group of people who looked to be about our age. He had changed spots, now sitting criss-cross on the coffee table while all the other's surrounded him like it was story time.

"And I don't understand why leia kissed luke if she literally said in return of the jedi that she always knew he was her brother." Spencer babbled on as the people around hilm laughed loudly.

"Hey, spence." I saw his eye's light up when he saw me and he smiled wide.

"Y/n!" He threw his hands up, which caused him to almost fall backwards. He caught himself just in time and giggled a bit. It wasn't until I got closer to him that I noticed how red his eyes were. That, mixed with his odd behavior, it was clear he was not sober.

"Are you stoned?" I tried my best to contain my laughter, but it was funny watching him rock back and forth looking like he was really thinking about the question i just asked.

"Yes. No. I only had 2 brownies." He counted 2 on his fingers and held them up to me. The people he was talking to all started laughing and spencer joined in with them, probably not registering they were laughing at him.

"Ok, wanna come with me to a quiet place away from these people?" I leaned in closer to him, careful not to let the others hear. He doesn't say anything right away, just looks at me with an expression i couldn't place, but one that made my stomach flutter.

"Yes, please." He whispers back and stands up quickly. He sways back and forth for a moment before steady himself.

"We're gonna go somewhere else." Spencer tells the group and they all start booing in protest and all shouting disappointed "no's". Spencer seemed unbothered by them, but does say a quick apology regardless. I gestured for him to follow me as I stared walking away. He waved them goodbye before hurrying after me.

I lead him down a dimly lit hallway and into an unlocked room, which thankfully had no one in it. It appeared to be a guest room that was pretty empty, besides a queen bed, a night stand with a lamp and a rug.

"Those people were nice. They knew nothing about star trek though." Spencer sat down on the rug, returning to his criss-cross position.

"You do know there's a bed right there." I laughed, pointing to the bed that was right behind him. He shrugged.

"The rug looked softer." He said as he felt the rug. I took a seat next to him, putting the drinks off to the side. He looked completely out of it, like he was on a different planet.

"How are you feeling?" I asked and leaned back against the bed.

"Weird."

"I assume you've never been stoned before?" He shakes his head.

"I've read about the effects of marijuana, euphoria, altered perception, impaired memory and cognition. But It's so much different actually experiencing it first hand. It feels weird. I also probably shouldn't have ate 2 of those brownies. Brownies sound really good right now. Oh! Another effect of marijuana is increased appetite, or the "munchies" as they call it." He smacked his lips together, then licks them.

"My mouth is really dry." I couldn't help but laugh. This is definitely not how i expected this night to go. He turns to me as I laugh with a painfully cute expression that made my stomach flip. I reached for the cup of water i had gotten for him earlier and handed it to him.

"Here." I chuckled and he took it quickly. He didn't even look to see what was in the cup before downing the whole thing. Once he had finished, he whipped his mouth and put the cup down.

"Thank you. Your so kind." He turned to me and smiled gratefully. He looked absolutely beautiful in that moment. His hair was slightly messy, his eyes were glossed over and dreamy looking, his smile was simply adorable and the light was hitting him just right. His compliment made me blush and I turned away from his gaze. I felt him continue to stare at me.

"I'm sorry you're stuck taking care of me. I know you probably wanted to have fun tonight." His face had dropped and he sighed.

"It's ok, spence. I am having fun." I reassured him. Witnessing his first experience being high was admittedly very entertaining. He sighed again. He just looked at me in silence for a few moments, making me nervous.

"You're so amazing." He blurts out suddenly. His words took me by surprise and I felt my face heat up, probably now a light shade of pink.

"You're so pretty too. And caring, and smart, and funny, and pretty." His tone was light and distant, like he wasn't aware he wad saying all this out loud. That made me snap back to reality and remember that he was high. I felt a wave of disappointment hit me when I realized he was probably just saying all this stuff because he was stoned, not because he meant it.

"Ok, spence." I said dismissively and laughed a bit to hide my disappointment.

"I think you're the most amazing person I've ever met. I mean, there's a party happening right now and you choose to stay with me. You're always doing that, taking care of me. I think that's why I love you so much." The last part really caught my attention, my disappointment quickly dissipating and being replaced with shock.

Did he really just say that? I know I shouldn't take anything he says right now seriously, but admitting that he loves me seems pretty serious. I take a few seconds just to process what he had just said. I was sure he didn't mean it like that, I'm sure he meant as just a friend. But that didn't stop my heart from fluttering.

"What?" I finally said with a uncontrollable smile on my face. He turned to me, confused.

"What?"

"You just said you love me." His eyes widened and he shot up straight.

"What?!" He looked at me like a deer caught in headlights. He groaned, putting his head in his hands and shaking his head.

"Spence, it's ok. I know you didn't mean it like that." He sighed. He said something, but it was muffled by his hands.

"I can't hear you." He sighed again and lifed his head up so i could hear him clearer.

"I did mean it like that." He said, his voice quite and low. I couldn't believe what i had heard, so I just stared at him in shock for a moment. He glanced over to me when I didn't say anything for to long, groaning when he saw my shocked expression.

"Ugh, this is not how I wanted to tell you." He put his head back in his hands and slouched forward.

"I know you don't feel the same and we're just friends. I'm so sorry, y/n. You can forget I ever said that, i don't want it to be awkward or uncomfortable for you. I just-"

"Who said I didn't feel the same?" I cut him off before he got to in his head. He turned his head so face that I thought he'd get whipe lash, his red eyes wide in surprise.

"Wait, what?" The look on his face made me giggle.

"You're smart and funny and kind and you're insanely cute, you understand me in a way no one ever has. You're so passionate about your work and helping people. You're the most incredible, extraordinary person I've ever known. How could I not love you?" I felt a huge weight lift off my chest as I tell him everything I've wanted to say to him for so long. He just stares at me wide eyed, his mouth opening like he was about to say something, but then closing it again.

"I- what- wait- huh?" He stammered, making me laugh.

"I'm sorry, it must be the drugs or my own wishful thinking. But did you just say what I think you said?" A piece of hair fell onto his face, so I tucked it behid his ear. His face turned red and his mouth hung agape slightly.

"Maybe we should talk about this when you're sober."

"No, I want to talk about it now." He scooted closer to me. I was almost certain this is not how he wanted this conversation to go, him stoned out of his mind and in some random room in a random house. Of course I wanted to say it again, to tell him I love him and that I've loved him for years. But I'd rather tell him that when he can process more than 1/2 things at once.

"Later, when you're not baked like a cake." He laughed like it was the funniest joke he'd ever heard.

"'Baked like a cake'" He repeated after his laughter died down to a frequent giggle. His face suddenly turned more serious and he looked me right in the eye.

"Cake sounds so good right now." His face was so serious, like he had to have cake at that very moment or someone would kill his whole family. The intensity on his face was enough to make me burst into laughter. I had to look away from him to compose myself, so I didn't see him go to lay down. I felt his head rest on my thighs, the sudden contact taking me by surprise. I look down to see him turned away from me with his eye's closed.

After my initial shock disappeared, I hesitantly ran my fingers through his hair. He sighed in content and placed his hand on my knee. I smiled to myself as I continued to play with his hair.

"I'm tired." He mumbled. As if almost on cue, i felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I took it out to reveal a text from Derek. I chuckled as I read it over.

"Well you're in luck because Emily puked on a girl and now we're leaving." I tried to get up, but his head remained on my lap.

"Come on, spence. You gotta get up." He groaned in protest and gripped my leg to keep me in place.

"Don't wanna."

"Spencer." I said softly. I didn't want to move either, but unless we wanted to take a taxi home, we had to get up. He sighed before pushing himself up, his hair a complete mess. I reached over to fix it for him, combing his hair with my fingers. He looked at me like I was an angel on earth, his eyes fixed on me. Though the urge to pull him in right then was strong, but I had to get him home.

"Come on." I stood, reaching my hand out to help him up. I interlocked his hand with mine once he had stood up. I lead him out the door, back out to the basement, upstairs and through the crowd to the front yard where Derek was waiting for us.

"Hey, love birds." He smirked when he caught sight of our interlocked hands.

"Hi, Morgan. Do you have any snacks in your car?" Spencer asked. Morgan looked at him funny and smiled wide when he saw his red eyes.

"Are you baked?" Spencer giggled to himself before responding.

"Like a cake." He started laughing and Derek looked at me for answers.

"I'll tell you later." Derek nodded and walked over to his car, me and spencer following behind. Emily was already in the front seat, passed out. I felt bad for how she was going to feel in the morning.

The ride home was quiet, besides the occasional snore coming from Emily. I turned to Spencer to see him fighting off sleep, his eyes just slivers and struggling to keep his head up. I squeeze his hand to get his attention. He turned to me with tired eyes and I gestured for him to lean his head on my shoulder. He whispered a "thank you" before resting his head on my shoulder. We stayed that way till we reached Spencer's apartment complex.

I shook him slightly as we parked outside his building. His eyes opened slightly and he removed his head from my shoulder.

"Come on, I'll walk you inside." He gave me a tired smile. I escorted him out the car and into his building.

He talked about the book he was reading on the way up to his apartment, he barely making any sense as he did so. Once we reached his door he got quiet.

"You really meant it right?" He asked and I looked at him confused.

"Meant what?"

"What you said earlier." I smiled once I realized what he was talking about.

"Of course I meant it."

"Good. I meant it to." He smiled sweetly. I would've never imagined that spencer would like me back, or that I'd find out this way. But I'm happy regardless. I'm so happy. Spencer Reid, my best friend, loves me.

I cupped his cheek and leaned in to kiss his cheek. He looked at me wide eyed when I pulled away.

"Goodnight, spence."

"G'night." He muttered, his surprise still evident. I waved him goodbye before heading back down to the car.

The ride back to my place consisted of telling Morgan how spencer had managed to get high on accident and him telling me how Emily drank way to much, resulting in her throwing up all over the girl she'd been flirting with. I left out the love confession part to avoid any further torment that spencer would definitely have to endure from him at work.

As he talked about what had happened while me and spencer where in the basement, I thought about everything that had happened. My smile grew more and more as I replayed the events of tonight. Just then, I felt my phone buzz. My smile growing impossibly wide when I read the text on the screen.

*ate everything in my fridge. I love you.*

I laughed before typing my response.

*I love you too.*

~~~

A/n: first tumblr fic guys! This was longer then i expected so oopsies my b 🤗 anyways, hope you enjoyed!

[celestialprincesse]

going home to best friend simon after a failed blind date (where the guy ridiculed you for what you were wearing, or made you feel stupid or something) and he makes you feel better by finally kissing you the way he’s wanted to for so many years 🥹

🌃🛋️🐆🎱

You hadn't been on a date in far too long. Two months, actually, nearly three. In all honestly, you'd grown sick of spending countless hours scrolling through dating apps, only to be rewarded with unwarranted dick pics and texts at stupid hours of the morning asking 'u up?'. Having had enough of small talk, and being treated like a sentient blow up doll, when your friend had offered to set up a blind date after your whining over a cheap bottle of red, you'd eagerly agreed. Surely, you'd thought, she'd vet the potential date, and you trusted her taste - which was your first mistake.

The second would be actually expressing yourself when going to meet a man you've never been introduced to before. The way he stares down at your shoes with disdain as you walk into the restaurant, or scowls when you order a cocktail is agonisingly obvious, and has you on edge the whole night. Unable to help the way you sigh in relief as you split the bill and get ready to leave, you vow to never do this to yourself again - and then proceed to cry in the cab all the way home.

Simon, conveniently, is standing in the kitchen when you get home, kicking off your favourite heels with a huff, and proceeding to further blubber when they smack against the cabinet and the heel comes loose.

"Bad date?" Your roommate questions, shaking you from the spiral of self pity you're rapidly descending.

"Why do I do this to myself," You huff, perhaps a little dramatically as you throw your purse on the counter, before sitting up on the marble surface to better face Simon - and ease your aching feet. "Like - genuinely - why do I do this to myself? Men are assholes."

Simon only provides you with an bemused hum as he rifles through the kitchen cabinets and fridge. "Grilled cheese?"

"Mhm. M' starving." You scoff, reminded suddenly of the incredulity you'd felt having paid for half of the bill - when you'd only had a salad (ordered for you no less), whilst your 'date' had gorged himself on a rump steak and fries right before your face. Asshole.

Watching Simon's back, straining against his t-shirt as he dutifully prepares you something to eat that doesn't comprise of soggy lettuce and split sauce, you can't help but to sigh, lost in thoughts of why all men aren't like him, and how if he wasn't your roommate, and if you weren't drunk and extremely fragile emotionally, you'd absolutely jump his bones given half the chance.

So distracted, in fact, that you fail to notice the plate of sizzling melty, cheesy goodness placed beside you on the counter, and the crooked smile Simon offers as he stands between your legs, resting his hands either side of you.

"They don't deserve you." He offers, perhaps - no, definitely - out of pity, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear, knuckles brushing against your cheekbone in one of the softest gestures you've felt in a long time. "Nobody deserves you."

"You do." You can't help the words that spill from your lips, worse still, your eyes darting to his own mouth, breath catching when his tongue darts out to wet them on a subconscious instinct, taunting you.

Stupid, stupid, stupid - is probably what your brain would scream at you when your lips crashed against Simon's - if you gave a shit. Which you don't.

And you're so glad you don't, because the way he kisses you back is practically sinful, all encompassing as he nips at your bottom lip and pulls you closer by the hips with such startling ease that you have to pull back. But of course, by some cruel twist of fate, or maybe just some terribly bad luck, when you go back to kiss him a second time, he stops you, a frown pulling at his dirty blond brows.

"Not now." He whispers, voice hoarse and eyes burning right through your very skull. "Not when you're feeling like this. Not because I don't want to - because, fuck, I do - but not now. I want you when you're ready - and not drunk, preferably. Eat your grilled cheese and we'll get you to bed."

🌃🛋️🐆🎱

[anniebeemine]

genius 2.0- s.r x fem!reader

Summary: Spencer can't believe his son takes after him so much, maybe a little too much.

warnings: none :), slight implications of what Spencer went through in school

“Mom!”

You stilled your shoes off, barely able to close the door before your son, Sebastian, tackled you into a hug. “Mom!”

“Hey, bud,” you greeted, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He pulled back, his chin resting on your front as he wrapped his arms around you. “Did you know that some species of sharks can live up to 100 years?" Sebastian said, his eyes bright with curiosity.

You smiled and ruffled his hair. “I did not know that.”

He detached himself from you. “Their metabolism is really slow, so it attributes to their age.”

Spencer looked around the corner and smiled. "Hey, sweetheart. How was the parent-teacher conference?"

You placed your bag on the counter and walked over to give Spencer a quick kiss on the cheek. "It was great! Mrs. Anderson had a lot to say about Sebastian." You dropped your voice as Sebastian excused himself to wash his hands. “You and I have a lot to discuss,” you grinned.

Spencer perked up an eyebrow. He served three plates, handing two of them to you. You placed one in front of Sebastian. Throughout dinner, the father son duo liked to talk. Sebastian often had a list of topics to discuss, things that he wanted to hear his parents’ opinions on. So, the two of you answered his questions every single night while he ate with one hand and scribbled down the answers with the other.

At the end of the meal, Sebastian placed his empty plate in the sink. He washed his hands and stood behind his chair for a moment. “I’m going to go to my room.”

“Okay, bud,” Spencer smiled. “Go ahead.”

You giggled as he left, brown curls bouncing up the stairs. “He’s so much like you,” you sighed, pushing some lettuce back and forth on the plate. “I’m so lucky to have two.”

Spencer smiled softly, leaning back in his chair. "What did Mrs. Anderson say?"

"She thinks Sebastian can take an exam to skip the fifth grade. He's already reading far ahead for his age group," you explained, watching Spencer's face carefully.

Spencer began clearing the table, barely responding. "That's...impressive," he said, his voice subdued. He pointed to your plate. "Are you done?"

You nodded, watching as he left everythingin the sink while he took out the garbage. You sighed and got up to finish the dishes, the clinking of plates filling the silence. After drying your hands, you went upstairs and found Spencer in Sebastian's room, thumbing through a book while Seb arranged his toys.

"Hey," you said softly, stepping inside. "Everything okay?"

Spencer looked up, his eyes thoughtful. "Yeah, I was just thinking." He rolled out of the bed, going over to his son. "Can we talk about something?"

Sebastian turned around, leaning against his toy chest while sitting on the floor. You stood by the closet door. "Sebastian-"

"I didn't mean to break it!" He blurted, cheeks pink.

You furrowed your brows. "Break what?"

"Nothing," he lied. Surely, it wouldn't be long to find the broken item. "What are we talking about?"

You told him about the meeting, praising him for being so far ahead of his classmates. "And we were wondering how you'd feel about going straight to the sixth grade."

"Sebastian, how would you feel about skipping the fifth grade?" Spencer asked, his voice calm but his eyes watching his son intently.

Sebastian's eyes widened with excitement. "Really? I can skip a grade? That sounds amazing! I want to do it, Dad!"

Spencer nodded. "We'll set up the meeeting for you to take that test."

After saying goodnight to Sebastian and making sure he was settled, you went to your room to find Spencer sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. His shoulders were tense, and you could see he was fighting back tears.

"Spence?" you said softly, walking over and sitting beside him. "What's wrong?"

Spencer took a deep breath, his voice shaky. "I'm afraid, Y/N. I spent years being tormented. I don't want Sebastian to go through that." He sniffed. "I don't want him to grow up."

You reached out and gently lifted his chin so he could look at you. His eyes were red and glassy, filled with a pain that reached deep into his past. "Spencer, I know it was hard for you, but Sebastian has us. He has a support system that you didn't have. We'll make sure he's okay."

Spencer nodded, tears spilling over despite his efforts to hold them back. "I just want him to be happy and not have to deal with what I did. The loneliness, the bullying... It was relentless."

You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. "He's going to be okay, Spence."

Spencer clung to you, his body trembling. "I remember being so excited, just like Sebastian, and then...everything changed. Kids can be so cruel, Y/N. I don’t want him to lose his spark."

You stroked his back soothingly, your heart aching for him. "We'll talk to him about what to expect, and we'll be there for him if he needs us. We can also talk to the school, make sure they’re prepared to support him too."

Spencer pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his temple. "You don't have to do it without me. We're in this together, always."

Spencer nodded, a small smile breaking through his tears. "Together, always."

He leaned into your embrace, and you held him tightly, feeling the weight of his fears slowly lifting. "Sebastian is lucky to have you as a dad," you murmured. "He’s going to thrive, and we’ll make sure he’s happy and safe."

Spencer sighed, the tension easing from his body. "I just want to protect him from everything."

"I know," you said softly. "And we will. One step at a time, we’ll guide him through this. He's strong, like his dad."

Spencer chuckled softly, wiping his eyes. "He's stronger because he has you too." Spencer's breathing steadied, and he rested his head against yours. "You know, I used to think I had to do everything alone. But with you, I don't feel that way anymore. You've shown me what it means to be a team, to share the burdens and the joys."

As you both sat there, holding each other in the quiet of your room, you knew that no matter what challenges came your way, you would face them together.

[ch4mpagnedrought]

compensation

[full series]

mdni ! art donaldson

summary: you and art cant help but try and compensate for everything you’re missing out on now that tashi and patrick are together.

ever since tashi had suggested a game of tennis for her number and patrick won, its left you and art to roam around the stanford campus like two little lost puppies, begging for their attention when patrick comes to visit tashi.

patrick has made it impossible to get a hold of the girl, her dorm room always locked and her absence in the daily work-outs the two of you usually have made very obvious. not to mention the betrayal art must be feeling, having his best friend be only in the adjacent building to him, but never coming to actually see him.

you’ve had to find ways to preoccupy yourselves, and stop you from going on an angry rampage, like;

hitting racket to ball in the middle of the court, not even bothering to play a real game. “my prof is making me rewrite my whole assignment this week.” you complain, aiming the ball at the green fencing at the sides and watching it bounce back in art’s direction for your own botched version of squash. he laughs loudly, “who knew you were so bad at everything besides tennis.” you shoot him a scowl and his eyes widen, shoulders shrugging unapologetically as he swings his arm once again.

spring fading into summer means that evenings still have a little light in them, and you fight the urge to lie straight down on the tarmac and look up at the greying sky. the light breeze washes through art’s strawberry blonde hair, swaying it to the side to expose his brows that furrow when you let the ball bounce away between your legs, looking at him with a tense expression. the thought that tashi and patrick were somewhere doing god knows what (you knew what) and completely ignoring you made a reappearance in your head suddenly, and it boiled your blood. “ugh! im gonna kill them!” you huff out, grabbing the ball from the ground and stomping to where you left your stuff. art’s arm finding the both of your shoulders, “ditto that.”

having lunch at the food hall together: waiting in line for the same exact salad that you get every day, curtesy of your game-preparation meal plan and taking a seat on the bar stools that overlook the rest of the campus. stabbing your fork into the frail pieces of lettuce in your plastic bowl, art taking another bite of his churro in silence and licking away all the rouge sugar particles from his lips. “you know, patrick didn’t even bother to call me about his visit.” art says, taking off his red baseball cap just to put it back on his head again. “what a dog.” you scoff, shaking your head and taking a sip of your smoothie that tastes a little grainy from the protein powder. you would’ve continued to rant if you hadn’t spotted tashi and patrick walking hand-in-hand in the distance, all smiles and giggles; it makes you sick. “look.” you point it out to art and he mocks patrick in a high-pitched voice, “hey tashi aren’t i so cool? i play pro and i’m totally not cheating on you.” you chuckle, leaning over to snag a bite of his churro.

and confiding in each other in art’s dorm late at night, when the haunting noises coming from the other side of your wall get too much.

his room is surprisingly so…boyish. a couple posters of tennis stars on the walls that seem so out of place, like he put them there for the sole purpose of taking up space. his medals are hung up on the corner of his wardrobe, tinkering on the edge and there is an unidentified pile of clothing in the corner.

his sheets are a deep maroon colour and you lie flat across them, both of your heads leaning on the single flat pillow he owns, legs crossed. his ceiling has remnants of a water leak the university tried to paint over and you study it from below. “i wonder what they’re doing right now.” art hums, putting his hands behind his head, and letting you rest your head on his bicep.

you shoot up, glancing down at him, one brow lifted and eyes narrow, “i can tell you exactly what they’re doing right now,” you say, scrambling up onto your knees, “’patrick i need your racket right now!’’’ you moan tauntingly, rolling your eyes back and crossing your arms over your chest. art cackles, stomach contracting and grabbing onto your shoulder for support. his hand is pumping warm with blood, hovering over your skin for longer than socially acceptable, and his fingers caressed by the long strands of your curly hair that fall at your sides.

running over to his room meant that you hadn’t had enough time to grab a change of clothes to sleep in, so he graciously lent you one of his t-shirts, a navy one with white embroidered writing that you hadn’t bothered to read, which prods at the aching in his head to see you without it.

“when was the last time you slept with someone?” your question catches art off guard, lying back down next to him and watching the blush creep up onto his cheeks, eyes darting away somewhere to think of an answer. “oh come on, was it that unforgettable?” you laugh. he knew when exactly when the last time was, but the thought that him sleeping with someone had crossed your mind, putting the idea of the two of you together into his own had clouded his head, making it unbearably difficult to think, or speak.

“maybe last month” art estimates when the last time he saw the girl in one of his classes that he casually slept with from time to time, your expression remaining unchanged, which whirls something inside of his stomach. you nod, smile spreading across your lips, and eyes glancing down to art’s partially parted ones. art adjusts himself, propping his head up with his hand and looking down at you, “when was the last time that you slept with someone?”

its unclear to him whether you're joking with your response. “ask me that tomorrow.” it spins his head until he sees double, having to shut his eyes for a second to regain consciousness. your nonchalant smile quite frankly irks him, because you seem so unaware of how he is sliding the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip, preparing just incase you decide that you want to kiss him. or the fact that he moved his leg upwards along the bed to cover his raging boner at just the mere idea of you and him together.

the shirt he lends you rides up on your hips, obviously showing off the black panties that you’re wearing and the neck-line hangs low enough to show the indent of your collarbone that he imagines licking a stripe over.

you thrum, looking up at art through dark eyelashes, “isn’t it so unfair how tashi and patrick can ignore us just to get at each other?”

he got the hint, every crumb you’ve put down he’s followed and scooped up all in one go, sighing out a weak, “yeah” that sounds more like a whine, and leaning down to kiss you on the lips.

the taste of your lip gloss he had missed sweetens his mouth immediately and the faint smell of a chocolatey lotion on your skin sends him into complete overdrive, left hand desperately reaching for the side of your face to take you deeper into him. he sinks himself down, pressing his chest into yours and disconnecting his lips to breathe out a groan at the sensation of your boobs against him like a boy who's never felt them before.

his face is burning hot, lips even hotter as they move simultaneously with yours, covering the perimeter of your mouth with long and drawn out movements to fully get the taste of you hes been dreaming of ever since that hotel room. his hands roam down to the curvature of your waist, taking a strong grip to it to make sure his fingerprints forever remember it, then down to your hips, kneading the flesh.

with him over you, he pulls away from your arms that are wrapped around his neck, pulling the hem of his shirt to unveil your midriff and the black lace that frames your lower waist, your thighs pressed together to catch the heat that he manifests within you, “oh my god.” it might just be the lewdest sight he has ever seen, along with your swollen lips that are glistening with his saliva.

he can barely keep away the moans that try to escape his mouth when he lowers himself down to you, eager lips pressing into your hip, lapping at the surface of your skin with a desperation only art could have, along the hem of your panties, and back up your stomach while your fingers entangle with his blonde locks.

your pulse quickens, exhaling his name out when his finger pulls your underwear to the side, letting the air hit your leaking core, a smile playing at art’s lips. “please, please art.” you moan out, squeezing your eyes shut and letting the sensation of one of his digits swiping through your folds overcome you.

he nibbles at your inner thighs, soft licks soothing the area as one of his fingers slides inside you, while the other gropes at your breast through your shirt. his mind is completely consumed by you, watching every change in your expression with his fingers pumping in and out of you, flush on your face and brows knitting every time he draws back.

your legs instinctively move over his shoulders, trapping him around you to continue the motion and giving him the chance to tilt his head to the side, pressing a kiss to the thigh that is thrown over him. “is this okay?” he asks, caressing a hand down your calf and watching the way your hand reaches out to grab him by the wrist.

“lie down art” you keen, his eyes narrow and he pulls back with a sense of confusion that is overrode with your impatience, ushering him below you. so he does, leaning against the headboard whilst you throw yourself onto his hips, his jaw tilting upwards to unconsciously fulfil the want of his lips devouring the whole of your figure.

the shirt he lent you doesn’t last long, ending up in the pile on his floor and letting him ravish in the sight of your bare torso. he gasps out your name, wandering hands reaching out to massage your breast, flesh filling out the gaps between all five of his fingers. “take this off” you strangle out, gesturing to the shirt he is wearing, disheveled hair falling back into his face that burns hot when you let your eyes roam down to his abdomen. even the weight of your ass pressing into his dick through his shorts is teetering him to climax, hands not knowing where to put themselves when he wants to grab a hold of all of you.

your fingers wrap around the waistband of his shorts that he is wearing, pulling down his boxers at the same time and freeing his erection to slap back onto his stomach, recalling something patrick said about the time he taught art to jerk off. the palm of your hand ghosts his cock, restraining yourself from taking it into your hands there and then, “can i?” even the way you sigh out the question has the hairs on art’s arms standing up and mouth swallowing saliva in anticipation. “yes, yes.” he whines, brows furrowing up at you and all of his muscles tensing.

with a gentle touch, he guides you above him, his hands at your sides as you spread yourself open for him, sinking down only to the tip before he grabs your waist and pauses in the position. he looks like a little helpless, bottom lip between his teeth and an alarmed look in his face that says if you go any further he’ll come right now. “i’ll go slow,” you whisper, a small smirk on your face that’s hard to resist when his shimmering eyes try to find the last slither of dignity within him, “i promise.” you smile reassuringly and he glances away, the flush in his cheeks getting a little deeper.

you keep your promise, slowly lowering yourself down onto him, goosebumps fevering your skin and palms laying flat across his abdomen to steady yourself.

taking him in completely, you whimper out his name and his hands journey to graze your back, up to your shoulder blades where he presses them into you to pull you into him, mouth suctioning down the valley of your breasts. his moans vibrate back into your skin when you pull back up from him, stimulating every single nerve ending in his length like it never has before. you set a pace, slow and steady for art, snapping your hips down onto his in a way that knocks the wind out of you each time, gasping for air. he keeps you close to him, rolling his hips to meet you in the middle and put some of that athlete stamina to use and murmuring your name with every movement.

his finger moves your hair from your shoulder, so he can press soft pecks onto the surface, whilst you clutch the wooden headboard, growing impatient and consequently pounding him into you. his moans purr into your ear, grabbing onto your ass to keep you still as he thrusts himself into you from below and shakily calling out an, “im gonna come.”

you nod, clasping around his biceps and leaning down to nip at his neck, losing composure the more your walls contract around him. you ignore the muscles in your legs that ache and your lungs that can’t seem get a hold of the air that is shared between you to continue to mercilessly plunge him deeper into you until it feels like you’re melting into one another, a shudder sending itself down your bare back and deepening the heat that builds in your core.

art is panting, popping your tit into his mouth one last time before falling still, twitching inside of you and releasing all of his seed into you until it overflows from below. your name echoes out of his mouth, whimpering and whining it out until he can open his eyes back up and centre his vision on you burning every last bit of energy to bounce on his dick.

you lean forward onto him, eyes rolling back into your head when reaching your climax and pressing your burning cheek against his face to feel all of him. he brushes his hand down your back comfortingly, you heaving into the crevice of his neck that glistens with sweat and feeling your walls contract around him the last couple times.

art sighs your name out, pressing his lips into your cheek and letting a smile spread across his face when you brush the dampened hair out of his forehead to get a better view of his eyes.

your body feels limp, falling back down next to him with a post-sex fatigue that follows you all the way into the next morning, where you sit at a table in the food hall, thanking art for bringing you some breakfast and trying to ignore the echoing of all the noises he made last night in your head.

“fuck i really need to work on that assignment today” you groan, taking a bite into a slice of honeydew with your head in the palm of your hand. art watches and nods, a false portrayal of an active listener when what he’s really focusing on is the way your lips curl around the slice, biting off a chunk and closing your lips around it in a way that makes him reminisce that he was right there too only a couple hours ago. “i can help.” he offers, truly from the kindness of his heart that kindly wants to spend the rest of his life looking at you.

“you wish.” you scoff, “i’m not allowed to be alone in a room with you anymore.”

art takes a swig of his water to hide the grin that spreads on his face, and when he makes eye contact with a random student from across the hall he feels like they heard that too. he wishes they could hear, and know that you, the best tennis player stanford has probably ever had, are having to physically restrain yourself from him.

“what are you smiling about?” the familiar voice of patrick calls out from a few strides away, in a pair of indigo levis and a white tee, grabbing onto arts shoulders and lowering himself down to his level to grab his chin playfully. art swats him away immediately, pushing patrick down into a chair. and tashi grazes your shoulders softly with her hand when taking a seat next to you and stealing a piece of your fruit from your bowl, “good morning.”

“morning.” you sigh out, taking a sip of your tea and hoping that it isn’t totally obvious that you slept with your friend. but tashi takes notice of the slight frizz in your hair, a dishevelled-ness that is never usually there, so it wasn’t her intention to call you out in front of the four of you when she asks, “why do you look hungover?” she even moves a piece of your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear to get a better look at the colour under your eyes. your brows furrow, eyes glancing to the left of you at the two boys whose expressions couldn’t be anymore different. art’s poker face is awful, he’s trying to keep his face composed but his posture slumps under the weight of patrick’s hand that spreads across over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk.

you shrug nonchalantly, taking another bite of your breakfast to act like your lungs aren’t constricting and you aren’t going into fight or flight, “late night i guess.”

theres a moment of silence, everyone in their heads peacefully while you wish you could get into art’s and find out what he’s thinking about your pathetic lie.

“nice shirt.” patrick says.

“thanks." you reply, swiping over the embroidered ‘mark rebellat tennis academy’ with a finger and looking up at patrick, who meets your eyes with a knowing smirk that makes you feel silly for not assuming that patrick would have memorised art’s whole closet, or recognise the school they went to.

and when patrick squeezes art’s shoulder and asks whether he is “up for a game?” you suddenly become hyper aware of how much his gaze slips past art’s eyes and down onto you as they stand up from the table, eyes squinting and a stupid smile on his face. the combination is so piercing you’ve become aware that even if tashi believed your lie, and art thinks he’s got away scott free—he knows, and he’s letting you know.

his hand ruffles the hair on art’s head, arm falling over his shoulders and drawing him into himself, “we have a bunch of catching up to do, art.” he keeps art close to him as they walk away towards the tennis courts, leaning in to whisper something into his ear after the both of them briefly turned around to wave you and tashi goodbye.

tashi seems unphased by their behaviour, continuing to braid a small of piece of your hair that she unconsciously started. “you know patrick’s about to tell art all about your get together.” you chuckle and tashi scoffs, leaning back into her chair, “he wouldn’t say anything” she reassures, “also we didn’t even do anything.” she adds in quickly, stealing another piece of watermelon from your bowl and taking a bite to avoid talking about the topic like you hadn’t just done that. you smile at her, and she widens her eyes to let you know that she’ll tell you all about last night later.

“i wouldn’t be so sure.” you shake your head, stealing back the half-bitten melon from in between her fingers and finishing it off.

[bambiesfics]

𝐄. 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 ♥️’𝐬 𝐌*𝐥𝐟𝐬 ╰₊✧ ﾟ

Part One - [FIND PART TWO HERE]

ˎˊ˗ SYNOPSIS: You’re a yummy, soft around the edges older lady, with a post-partum body that jiggles in the most delicious ways. Ellie simply can’t get ahold of herself, every time she sees you, her pupils turn into pretty pink hearts, and her clit thumps in rhythm with her beating heart.

ˎˊ˗ A/N: This is re-upload of my series fic, part 2 & 3 are already written!

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐒𝐓, when Ellie Williams realized for the first time, how much of a sick little whore she was for older women, especially with children.

Her jaw went slack when she walked by your house in the warm weather, lustfully staring at how the crease of your ass was spilling out from under your denim cut off shorts. You were too busy wiping chocolate off your toddler's face to notice the young brunette ogling you like a pervert.

Her steps faltered and then eventually just slowed to a complete stop. A wanton chance to stand there and stare at you. Ellie’s heart was thumping fast, but her clit was thumping faster. You were so womanly, so plush and pretty. Gosh, Ellie was so enamored with the tubby meat of your ass, and those yummy thighs of yours, to notice that her vanilla scoop ice cream had slowly melted atop her tight fist, and the sugary drippings splattered onto the toe-box of her converse sneakers.

When you finally stood up from where you were bent over your toddler, after haven given the aforementioned teen girl, a free, front-row show to ogle at your asscheeks. You’d realized that the same adorable young girl with auburn hair, had been staring at you. You naturally assumed it was heatstroke that made her all stiff like that. So you invited her inside. But reality set in when you noticed that no matter what you were doing, whether it was getting her a glass of water, or placing the back of your hand on her forehead to gauge her temperature, Ellie's eyes always found their way back down to your puffy nipples or your buttcheeks.

She continuously ran her tongue along her bottom lip as she manspread. Or rubbed her palms down her thighs just slow enough for you to catch the pride flag bracelet dangling from her wrist. And in less than a second your thoughts had flitted from ‘Oh…’ to ‘OH!’

You tried to push it into the back of your mind. Because, surely that didn’t mean anything. Ellie was just a nice young lady whose head was stuck in the clouds, the bracelet and the wandering green eyes, they didn’t necessarily mean that she wanted to…fuck you, did it? She’s too young to be so ambitious anyway, to be so wantonly lustful. No not this sweet, slightly spaced out, teenage girl. That’s what you wished to believe, so you rolled off the lustful thoughts, and instead offered her some lunch. A baloney and lettuce sandwhich with the crust cut off. Just how you assumed every kid liked it, It was the motherly thing to do.

“Wanna taste you sooo bad” she muttered as you came up close to place her lunch next to her. In an instant a deep pink blush bloomed wildly on Ellie’s face, her eyes widened in embarrassment and the blood vessels in her eyes became more pronounced. “I-I meant I wanna taste your sandwiches. L-L-like the one you just gave me…..I’m really sorry.” She turned her head to the side “Fuck. me.” The cherry cheeked girl had whispered the last part so low you almost missed it.

Ellie was so fucking humiliated, but she couldn’t help it. All she could do was trip and stumble over her words, and apologize each time her sinful lips accidentally verbalized every vivid fantasy she had, without her brain’s consent. Your curvy, post-partum body was doing sick things to her cunt. Cause damn, all she wanted was to stuff her face under your puffy pussy, tell you to drop your full weight on her head and then beg you to suffocate her.

Ellie got her wish, because after she embarrassed herself, you invited her to watch a few cartoons with your tot. Cartoons transitioned to action thrillers when your toddler got sleepy. And thrillers turned into you riding her tongue as she nipped her pink lips at your thumping, swollen clit. Suckling it into her mouth as she rubbed her own pussy through her jeans. Ellie brought both hands to grab the fatty dough of your ass and forced you to grind on her face, ride her nose until your heart's content. She even licked downwards until she reached your pucker, tonguing your furled tight rim. She’d always wanted to rim a girl, and fuck, today she just might. Before Ellie could continue poking the tip of her tongue into your asshole, you lifted yourself off her face and hovered your pussy above her lips as you came, watching your hole drip out sticky strings of your arousal onto her chin. Ellie held out her tongue to catch it.

And then you—.

“—Ellie!”

“Ellie!”

Your voice ripped right through her fantasy. “I think it’s starting to get late, you should go home now.” You said as you held her shoulder, worried about the ditzy girl.

Ellie’s eyes faltered momentarily, disappointed at the realization she had just gotten too deep into her fantasy again. Of course some random lady with a kid and likely a husband wasn’t going to let her fuck on the first day they met.

She pushed herself off from your counter and readjusted the front of her pants, trying to accommodate her swollen clit.

She hadn’t been this ravenously attracted to a girl in years. She already knew she was going to finger herself at the thought of you and your ass suffocating her deliriously, tonight.

Ellie shuffled outside, hands stuffed in the front of her pockets playing with the little Hawaiian tooth pick you put on her baloney sandwich.

The sun was low, and the horizon of its setting was a warm orange. The air cooled the nape of her neck. All she could think about was you.

Ellie had completely forgotten about how the point of her walk through your neighbour, was to go pick up her date from the next park over.

-Fin-

[lixiesfreckless]

Let Him Cook | h. j.

➸ synopsis: Your husband is making dinner— or at least, he would be if you weren’t distracting him…

➸ starring: hong joshua x reader

➸ word count: ~900 words

➸ general content: husband!joshua, kissing, need I say more you’re gonna read the fic anyway

➸ rating: TV-14

➸ author’s note: co-written by @ashonheavenscloud in a game of frantic fanfic on the TRAIN??? if you’ve read my fic Sugar Across The Hall, this reads as a pseudo-bonus scene.

♫ this fic has a soundtrack! too good by christian kuria works pretty well hehehe

"Baby, you should take a picture," Joshua chuckles, dicing the tomato on the cutting board with ease, "it'll last longer."

"But my phone is so far away," you whine playfully, stretching your arms on the raised counter akin to a cat as you watch your husband work, not offering much more than the occasional flirty quip and lopsided smile.

Joshua clicks his tongue with a playful smile. “Guess you’re out of luck, then.” He quickly finishes the tomatoes, moving onto the head of lettuce and expertly cutting the leaves into shredded pieces. You dramatically fall limp, making Joshua chuckle.

“Really, I’m sure there’s nothing special about me cutting ingredients for tacos.”

“Not my fault you look so sexy doing it.”

Joshua laughs softly, a light blush rising on his cheeks as he slides the shredded leaves into a bowl and sets the knife down, leaning over the counter and gazing at you.

"Is that why you've been watching me?" He asks coyly, rolling up his sleeves to his forearms again as they had slipped down. "And here I thought you were attempting to learn something-”

"Oh, but I did," you respond, sliding a little closer to him, watching his amused gaze slide across your face. “Mostly that you’re a very talented chef. And I should buy you an apron and one of those white hats-”

“I think you’re just trying to butter me up so I cook for you more often.”

You gasp in fake astonishment. “That’s cruel, Josh.” You slide closer, close enough that he has to look down at you to see the mischief in your irises. He freezes for a second, looking to the ceiling, perhaps to find his restraint.

"What's cruel," he says suddenly, seizing you by the thighs and heaving you up onto the counter with ease, "is you looking as good as you are knowing if I don't finish cooking, neither of us will eat tonight."

"Oh but I can think of one thing I could eat right now," you giggle, reaching for the back of his neck as he leans into you instinctively.

You can hear him slide the cutting board slightly out of his way as he settles between your open thighs, not wasting a second to lean close and steal a lingering kiss. You both sigh into it, and Joshua’s smile widens as he runs his hands up your thighs and leans forward again, met halfway by your eagerness.

“So this is what you were after the whole time, huh?” Joshua mumbles against your lips, hands moving to slip around your waist, hooking his fingers through the loops of your jeans. “So much for loving my cooking.”

“Not my fault you’re so distracting,” you grin, earning another sigh, equal parts exasperated and adoring.

“Yeah, yeah, c’mere,” he pulls you closer, kisses you deeper, tugging at your bottom lip in a way that elicits a swarm of butterflies to take part in wild flight. His nose nudges yours, and you take the opportunity to pull away and look up at him, hands braced at the edge of the counter as you teasingly tilt your head to the side.

"Do you have any post-dinner plans, Mr. Hong?"

"Oh I do," he says, his voice an octave lower as he leans back in, "I'm going to be very busy."

He plants a long, deep kiss on your lips and travels west, trailing down your cheek. "I'm afraid there's a woman," he pauses to place another kiss, "and I just can’t seem to stop thinking about her.” His lips find your jawline, your ear. “She’s got this…hold on me. Her smile, her laugh, her…” his lips drift down your neck, hands moving to firmly grasp your waist as he pauses, nose brushing your throat. “Her…”

His voice fades away, mouth finding the base of your neck and sucking slowly, forcing you to bite your bottom lip against a whine. Joshua leans back after a minute, leaving the new mark tingling as he meets your eyes with a gentle smile that juxtaposes the way his eyes roaming your body, the way he grabs your chin and guides your lips back to his.

“She sounds like quite the woman,” you say through unsteady breaths, muffled before you can say much more by Joshua’s mouth capturing yours, pressing his body into you, cutting you off with a gasp. It takes a minute for you to get another chance at speaking, and hardly that, as your breathing comes in shaky when he pulls back again, eyes still closed, lingering within a breath from your lips. “She’s lucky to have someone as kind and sweet and-”

“Good at cooking?” Joshua suggests, making you giggle as he kisses your cheek again, once more trailing to the side as you nod slowly.

“The best.” Your hands weave through his hair at the back of his head, forcing him to look back at you with dazed eyes and a smile.

“She deserves it,” Joshua whispers, reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. His mouth lifts further into a teasing grin. “She might even convince me to skip right past dinner.”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

[untolduttering]

Good Boy

Part two to this one, but can be read as a standalone

Summary: You find out about Sanji stealing your underwear and decide to confront him and do something fun about it.

Tags: female!reader x Sanji, nsfw, oral (female receiving), fingering, face grinding, grinding, small mention of blood

Word Count: 3.2k

You weren’t a complete idiot.

Sure, small garments such as socks did go missing. Underwear, too, could slip through the cracks. You didn’t really pay attention to your dirty laundry, but you sure did notice when a pair of underwear you had worn showed back up, clean, in your drawer. Especially when you hadn’t done any laundry.

And when it followed a routine? Put back carefully folded, the love put into the action almost radiating from the drawer?

You knew from the start, really. When Sanji would use that first day at a new island to stay with the ship. You were in a shop that overlooked the docks when you saw him and his overeager little self enter the women’s quarters, and leave with a heavily flushed face and a bounce in his step.

His idea worked quite well at first. If you hadn’t seen him sneaking in, you might’ve stayed blissfully ignorant for a little while longer. For him to pick the first day, when you were too excited to be on land to really pay much attention to the mundane routines, and the laundry day that typically followed after, was a good example of his strategic thinking.

If only he wasn’t a known pervert. If only he had any control over his desires. It seemed that once he started, he couldn’t stop, and couldn’t help to take more. The silly, horny boy. He really was so needy.

You didn’t mind, though. You’d become quite smitten with the cook in your time with the crew. You didn’t think he’d return any desire you’d had for him, until you realized that he’d stopped taking Nami’s and Robin’s underwear. Nami had been quite vocal with her complaints, and once you’d noticed that she’d stopped, you’d asked about it. And she confirmed, in her need to keep a sharp eye and rigid check of her underwear drawer, that they remained the same. Robin’s was a swift answer, amusement clearly there at Sanji’s behavior, but he had stopped rooting through her things as well.

So you let it continue, and sometimes even indulged in making it better for him. Every once in a while, you’d wear the same pair of underwear for two days. It wasn’t something you did often, as you preferred to be clean, and wearing a pair for so long wasn’t always all too pleasant, but you noticed that when you did that, the pair was gone for longer. The acknowledgment of your efforts was much more rewarding than it should have been.

And when your own longing for him grew to be unbearable, your self-consciousness being overridden by your need to have him, you had to figure out how to tell him. You thought of all the different ways you’d wanted to confess to him, making it as romantic as possible. But now, with this new ammunition, you wanted to have a little fun with it. You were thinking of making it a little more sexual. And that thought grew.

Now, you had an idea. And the first step required waiting for the next island, for that first day, and hoping that Sanji would volunteer as usual.

It was midday when Brook yelled out that he’d spotted land. You were helping Nami prune her tangerine trees, enjoying the sun warming your skin. The call made your stomach flip and caused a different sort of excitement than it usually did.

Nami predicted that you would all arrive by nightfall, and the crew decided to sleep on the ship and venture out tomorrow morning. You were suddenly thankful that you decided to wear your pale peach panties with a lettuce ruffle along the edges, and a cute little bow at the top of the waistband.

Come morning, Sanji offered to stay with the ship during breakfast. You had to fight off the stupid grin that wanted to spread across your face when you heard it.

“I wanna see what sort of stores they have,” Nami chirped.

“I think that’d be nice to do, too,” you offered.

Immediately, Sanji swooned and started fawning and crooning, “Oh my lovely, lovely ladies, out on the town, stripping down and dressing up!” He had his hands clasped and pressed to his face as he spun around, hearts in his eyes.

You giggled as Nami dragged you away from the table, ready to go out. The rest of the crew did similarly as they all decided what they were going to do with their day. You let her drag you off the ship and into town, and followed her through one store, commenting on everything she tried on. It wasn’t until you were on your way to the next store that you paused.

“Ah! Nami, I’ve forgotten my money on the ship. I’ll be right back,” you told her. You turned and left before she could offer to pay, adding to whatever debt you had to her with another added interest.

The ship was finally empty and you headed straight for the women's quarters. As quietly as you could, you pushed open the door and snuck in.

Sanji was standing there, the pair from yesterday pressed to his face. He was licking at the fabric, dragging his tongue across before sucking on it. A moan spilled out of his mouth as he did, and it was all somehow both equal parts lewd and cute.

You let the door click as you shut it behind you, causing Sanji to jump and spin around. His face flushed a deep red as he sputtered. He shoved the panties behind his back, as though hoping you hadn’t seen anything at all.

“Enjoying yourself?” you asked.

“Y/n-san! I— I was just… thinking of how nice it would be to clean for you ladies in here!” Sanji let out a nervous laugh.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hummed. You reached out and grabbed the arm he was trying to hide, and slowly guided it forward. He let you, unable to do anything that might seem like resistance to you. You dragged your fingertips down the length of his arm until you reached his hand to take the panties from his grasp.

“They were on the floor.” His gaze refused to meet yours. “I was just putting them back.”

“Right…” you unfurled them and held them up between you. “I know you’ve been taking them.”

Sanji opened his mouth to defend himself again but you cut him off. “But I don’t mind. I, uh, quite like it, actually.” His eyes widened in surprise. “It’s been very sweet of you to clean and return them, too, ever the gentleman. But you’ve been taking without asking, and I thought I should do something about that.”

You could hear his swallow. “Like what?” he asked.

Now it was your turn to get nervous. It was a bold move, one you wanted to work desperately. You dropped your hands, keeping your underwear gripped in one as you stepped forward and grabbed the front of his coat. “I want you to strip down.”

Sanji’s jaw dropped, clearly not expecting the request, your forwardness, your hands on his front. He was frozen by it.

“Please?” you added.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, breathless, his lapse broken by your plea. His hands immediately began to loosen his tie while you unbuttoned his coat. Piece by piece, you both peeled all of his clothes off. Once they were piled onto the floor, you took a step back just to admire.

He cut a lean figure. He did not have very large muscles, but what he did have was well defined. His legs were the most toned, and little faint scars crisscrossed along the skin. It was clear that he took care to keep himself as well groomed as he did clean. The hair on his chest was kept trimmed, and so was the line that followed down to his happy trail, all the way down to his pubes. You felt the heat that was coursing through you burn hottest when you stared at his cock. It was pretty. Long, but not all that girthy, and that rosy tip sitting tall from his hardness. It was also clear that the attention was making him nervous, as his hands shifted, not knowing where to place themselves.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathed out, completely in awe. You couldn’t believe he’d even waste his time on your underwear, when he looked like that.

Sanji’s cheeks got even redder somehow, as he deflected the compliment, “You must have mistaken me for a mirror, mon amour, when your own beauty outshines all.”

And that personality, so ready to serve and make others feel good, all above his own needs. You felt your heart swell with fondness, and it ached a little at how he couldn’t see how wonderful he was.

But that was part of why you were here now. To make him feel good.

You raised your underwear, offering it to him, and asked, “Can you put these on?”

Sanji’s face went right back to shock. “You want me to wear them?”

You nodded, a grin tugging at the edges of your mouth. You were also here to toy with him, too.

“If… if that’s what you’d like.” He reached out for them and then slipped them on.

And oh, had you made the right choice. The way they sat high on his hips, and just barely contained his bulge had your head swimming. The little ruffles and peach color made him look so sweet. You stepped close again and pressed your hands to his chest, feeling the muscle there before dragging them down, enjoying the fuzz that covered it all. He was warm from his embarrassment, and his breath hitched from the contact. You toyed with the band of the panties once your hands got there, playing with the material. Then, you grabbed his length, feeling him through the fabric. He moaned immediately.

“Y/n…” He grabbed your face and brought you in for a kiss, unable to resist any longer. It was heated and needy, and you were eager to return it. The taste of his last cigarette lingered on his lips. You rubbed at his cock, earning another moan, one that caused his mouth to open, and you took the opportunity to dart your tongue in, to taste more, to take more.

You stepped forward, gently guiding him to the bed. He let himself be led and broke off the kiss to be pushed onto his back. You climbed on top of him, straddling his waist, needing to have your hands back on him. You ran your fingers through his bangs, pulling them back as you went, and hungrily went back to devouring him. You ground your hips down into his, eliciting a whine from his throat.

Sanji’s hands wandered, first groping your tits before reaching down to slip under the hem. As badly as you wanted to let him strip you, you grabbed his wrist and tutted.

He looked at you with a furrowed brow and his bottom lip jutted out, confused, and like he had done something wrong.

“Not until I’ve had my fun, when you’ve made up for stealing from me.”

He averted his eyes at being reminded of his shame, and let his hands fall to your hips. He nodded, but kept his bottom lip pushed out. You could tell he was put out for not being allowed to serve you, but oh he was serving you so, so well right now.

You smiled at him, warm and genuine. “Good boy.”

His eyes lit up at the praise and he pulled you back in for more. Sanji was always eager to do as he was told.

You started grinding into him properly now, keeping a steady rhythm. You were both moaning and struggling to breath as your makeout became messier and messier. Teeth gently nibbled into lips and tongues explored mouths until Sanji couldn’t take much more.

“I’m so close,” he whimpered.

You lifted your hips, wrapped your hand around his cock, and started pumping. Sanji’s back arched as he started babbling. “Yes, yes, please, yes.” His moans got louder and louder. He cried out as he came, and you made sure that all the cum that came shooting out remained in the underwear.

“Just like that, baby. Just like that,” you cooed as you rubbed him the rest of the way through his high.

“Thank you, thank you,” he cried.

You kissed all over his face; his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose. You lingered on his lips, but when his fingers dug into your waistband, you pulled back.

“Not yet. You’ll have to wait. For now…” you trailed off, building up courage. “I want you to get dressed.”

“What?” he asked. “But what about you, my love? You have to let me take care of you.”

“Later, later.” You pulled him up from the bed. “And I want you to keep the panties on, just the way they are.”

“But what about…” he gestured to the mess he made.

“Exactly.”

Sanji looked a little horrified at the prospect, and you wouldn’t make him do it if he truly didn’t want to. But he started nodding. “You like me like this?”

You grinned. “It’s a punishment, too, for all the cumming you’ve done in my underwear. You’ll have to sit in now.”

The loud sound of footsteps climbing the ramp that led onto the deck interrupted the two of you.

“Saaaaaanjiiii,” Luffy called. “I’m hungry!”

“You’d better hurry then,” you teased while swiping his pants off the ground.

Right before he left, after dressing him, you gave his cheek a quick kiss and his crotch a quick squeeze. The smile it put on his face dazzled you as he left, and you could see a faint trickle of blood flowing out of his nose.

It was hard for you to focus for the rest of the day. All you could think of was Sanji and his cum covered panties. When you were near him, it was impossible to function properly. Your eyes couldn’t help but wander right to his crotch and recreate the image of what you knew was there in your mind. Sanji seemed to be struggling in a similar way, as he seemed determined to keep an apron on at all times. To think that he must be covering his hard-on made your spine tingle. At one point he even accidentally switched the meals he was supposed to give Luffy and Nami. You couldn’t recollect a time he’d ever made a mistake like that.

At dinner, he made sure to place himself next to you. He rested his hand on your knee at first, letting it sit there as you all ate. But then it creeped its way upward, his fingers massaging as they went. You hooked your ankle around his and pulled his leg closer, just to feel more of him. This meal couldn’t end fast enough.

When it did finally end, you lingered in the dining room, waiting for the rest of the crew to go their separate ways. Walking back into the kitchen, Sanji had you pinned to the counter immediately. He buried his face into your neck, covering it in kisses as he spoke.

“Have I been good, my dear?” he asked, his voice desperate.

“Yes, you’ve been very good,” you purred as you pet his hair.

His hands slipped lower. “Let me take care of you, please.”

You nodded your assent, but pressed a hand to his chest to make him pause. “ Just take your pants off and then you can have me however you’d like,” you told him.

Sanji stripped himself faster than you thought possible, and dropped to his knees. He pressed his face into your clothed cunt, inhaling hard and mouthing at it. He lifted his eyes to yours, and asked, “May I?”

The sight before you made your stomach burn and cunt ache. The tip of his cock just barely peeked out of the soiled underwear, and his lips were wet with spit, just begging to be on you. “Yes,” you breathed.

He tugged off both your shorts and underwear in one go, and you could see the stars in his eyes as he stared at your pussy.

“So pretty,” he said, before hefting one of your legs onto his shoulder and diving in.

He dragged his tongue through all your folds, trying to get all the wetness that had gathered into his mouth and down his throat. Once he was satisfied, he pressed it flat to your clit, licking up and down, switching to tongue your hole and licking his way back up to it.

You brought your hand down to grip his hair, but had to restrain yourself from doing more. You wanted to pull his face even closer, if possible, and grind against it, but you were afraid of accidentally hurting him.

But it was Sanji, someone well attuned to how gestures convey emotions, needs, and he said, “Use my face, baby. I’ve been bad, selfish, for stealing your underwear. Take all you need from me.”

And you did as he asked, grinding down as soon as the last word left his mouth. The new stimulation made you whine, but your sounds were nothing compared to the sinful ones that came from Sanji. He was loud, and you could feel the sound just as much as you heard it. His hips began to thrust into nothing and his eyes were fully glazed over.

It didn’t take much longer for you to cum. With being pent up all day, the sounds from Sanji only increasing in pitch, and his tongue working at you relentlessly, the coil that had been growing tighter and tighter in your lower abdomen snapped, and Sanji drank up all that you gave him.

But he didn’t stop. Instead, with your hips gone still, he inserted two of his fingers into your hole and started pumping.

“One more. Just one more, can you do that for me?” he asked, before latching onto your clit without waiting for an answer.

Sanji curled his fingers and pounded at your sweet spot. He pulled another one from you as you gripped the counter behind you, trying to keep yourself upright and grounded. But of course, he still didn’t stop, and you whined out his name.

“Another one, my love. Only once more.” he murmured. And you let him, with legs shaking and hopeless moans spilling out of you.

He added another finger, stretching you out so nicely, The third orgasm had you near to collapsing, and you truly had to tug him off of you. “I can’t, Sanji. I can’t do anymore.”

He left a spattering of kisses across your thighs and whispered out thank yous and praises. Cheekily, he left a kiss to your clit before pulling all the way back and looking up at you. His face was a complete mess. His hair was sticking up every which way from your hands, and his face was soaked with your juices, smeared all across his mouth, cheeks, chin, and even his nose. You looked down to see that he’d already come, a fresh wet patch on the front of those panties, and a few ropes of cum dripping down his stomach and thighs.

“You’re so pretty like this. We’ll have to do it again,” you told him as you caressed his face.

Sanji gave you a big, dumb smile,full of admiration, and said, “Anything for you.”